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01 November 2007 @ 06:57 am
Mountain Climbing (Part Two)  
Title: Mountain Climbing, Part Two of Three
Fandom: Hot Fuzz
Character/s, Part Two: NA/AC, NA/AW
Word Count for Part Two: 2,600
Rating for Part Two: PG-13+
Summary for Part Two: OMG are Nick and Andrew making out? HTH did that happen? Let me tell you WTF is going on...

(Latest chapter in the Ring Cycle)
Part One

Mountain Climbing, Part Two

Nicholas stayed over for three nights that week as they adjusted to the new dynamics. They all slept in Andy’s bed, with Andy in the middle, although once or twice Andrew got out and secluded himself in the privacy of his own room for a few hours. At work, Nicholas tried to keep everything on an even keel and as far from Danny as he could, but he knew it was impossible that no one picked up on the emotions running through the three men.

Danny, for his part, refused to look at Nicholas at all.

Nicholas felt as if he were rolling head first down a rabbit hole. He never in his life allowed himself to lose control, but he admitted that he was not in control right now. He did not know how to define what was going on with the Andes, between them or with himself; he did not know what to do to save anything that he might save with Danny or Liz, both of whom he loved and needed and felt incomplete without; and he did not know what to make of his own sexuality, and the needs it pressed on him to the point that he was making choices that were ruining his life.


It was like tag teaming, mostly; they all slept together but it was one-on-one when the sex started. Nicholas was willing to watch them, usually with a clinical detachment that chilled Andy, but Andrew always left the room when Andy started on Nicholas. Nicholas and Andrew did not touch each other. Andy was their go-between, and he was fine with that.

Andy was glad neither man asked for more, because Andy could not give it. Safi’s rape not only hurt him physically in a long-term way, it was psychologically something he did not want to relive. He was angry about that – beyond furious – and hated Safi for taking part of his sexuality from him, among other many reasons he hated Safi. He tried to make up for it in other ways, doing damn near anything Nicholas told him to do, to either one of them. Andrew was still uncomfortable with everything, but he was calming down the more head he got. It was almost as if he put up with the sex just so he could wrap Andy into his arms as they fell asleep.


Andrew came home from work to find Angel on top of Andy in the living room, both of them dressed but grinding like teenagers. He rarely watched them together, if he could help it. Sometimes an early morning session of something would happen while he was asleep in bed with them, but he tried to ignore it.

He closed the door quickly behind him. “Fuck you two, going to get us nailed for fraternization.” He sneered at Nicholas as he stepped over them.

Nicholas jumped up, self conscious, and Andy cursed.

“Fuck it, thanks, Andrew. I was getting’ off.” Andy said from the floor, rolling his eyes.

“Not my problem, you goddamn wanker.” Andrew took off his jacket and his shirt and went into the kitchen. Nicholas sat on his knees in the middle of the floor next to Andy, holding his head with one hand. He slowly leaned backwards until he fell on his ass and cradled his head between his drawn up knees.

“Wot the fuck the matter with you?” Andrew walked back into the living room, holding a beer, and sat down on the couch.

Nicholas looked up and shrugged. “I do not belong here.” He got up and fixed himself, and then went for his jacket. Andy just laid in the middle of floor and watched Nicholas emotionlessly.

“So where do you belong, Arsewipe? Danny gonna take you back?” Andrew taunted and flung the beer aside as Nicholas landed on him, throwing punches. They clinched and rolled to the floor, both of them wailing on each other with force: one with training, the other with experience. Nicholas managed to roll up and land a solid punch to Andrew’s rib cage but paid for it with Andrew’s knee crashing into his hip and they fell back into a close clutch, using short, hard, fast punches against each other.

“Fuck on STOP it!” Andy yelled and both men froze. Andy threw himself on them and forced them apart, and they let him, neither one of them willing to dare landing a blow on him by accident. Andrew cursed and got up. Nicholas sat on the floor. When the tension calmed down after a few seconds, Andy stood with his hands on his hips, and then faced Andrew.

“Hate us, Andrew, but it won’t change a damn thing.”

Andrew looked up at him, wondering when in the hell Andy became psychic. But no, it was not that. Andy knew him, like he knew Andy, and he was just reading out of the book that was Andrew Wainwright.

“So this is about your homophobic self-loathing? Christ.” Nicholas groaned and got up. “Enough.”

“Shut it with your Met psychobabble and sit the fuck down on the couch.” Andy pointed and Andrew nearly laughed at the expression on Nicholas’ face, until he realized that Andy meant for Angel to sit next to him. Angel did, grudgingly, and they sat like schoolboys on the couch with Andy standing over them.

Andy crossed his arms, obviously deep in thought and trying to say something. They both just waited. “Nick?”

“Yes, Andrew.”

Andrew started, then realized that Nick was getting their names mixed up again.

“You stayin’?”

“Tonight? Yes. If you want me to.”

Andrew was always surprised to hear this side of Angel, his voice quiet and calming and…loving.

Andy nodded, but then shook his head. “But I’m sleeping alone. Tonight. You fucks can figure something else out.”

Andrew shared a surprised look with Nicholas as Andy turned and walked back to his room and closed the door.

Nicholas leaned back, his hands on his knees. “He wants us close by.” His voice returned to the clinical, professional clips that Andrew knew so much better, and he was glad. It brought them back to some kind of impersonal status quo.

“He doesn’t even like it when I go to my room.” Andrew nodded.

Nicholas frowned. “So will this be his first night sleeping alone since he came back from the hospital?”

Andrew nodded, and rubbed his mouth. “Nightmares. The meds killed the pain but fucked ‘im in the head.”

Nicholas nodded. “May I ask a personal question?”

Andrew snorted. “You were trying to beat the crap out of me a few minutes ago. What the fuck, Nick. Ask your damn question.”

“Do you two do anything when I’m not here?”

Andrew glared, but he could not hold it. “No.”

“…I really could use a beer.” Nicholas said, and Andrew took it for the peace offering it was. They sat on the couch drinking and the conversation drifted to safer topics like politics, religion, and work.

“So your turn.” Andrew waved his beer at Nick. They were drunk but not pissed, and relaxed on the couch, and constantly reminding each other to be quiet or they would wake up Andy.

“What?” Nick blinked.

“Danny.” Andrew glowered at him, then took a swig out of his bottle as if he had scored a bulls-eye in a dart game.

Nick pursed his lips and played with his beer bottle. Then he sat back and started at the beginning of when things went wrong. All their fighting over Liz, which was resolved well enough but still rankled Nicholas when he thought about it; Danny and him ganging up on Andy in the locker room; his growing distrust of Danny based on Danny’s attempts on Andy; the fallout with Liz and Danny and why he really came over that night to talk to Andy and ended up in the hospital, thanks to Andrew. And now…he had no idea what he was doing, and he cared for Andy but he desperately missed the life he had with Danny and Liz. Andrew sat in stunned silence, amazed that all of this was going on around him and he did not have a fucking clue.

Finally Nicholas stopped and started slugging his beer.

“Easy there, cowboy.” Andrew snickered. Nicholas tried to smile and shrugged. “So you and Butterball and…Andy?” Andrew screwed up his face, trying to imagine it, and failing.

“It was…bizarre.”

“Fuckin’ queer.”

“Well, that’s a given, isn’t it?” Nicholas laughed. “We were hard on him. It’s what he wanted, I suppose. He could have stopped us. I kept waiting for him too.”

“Liz didn’t take the news well.” Andrew observed.

“No.” Nicholas’ face was grim. “And neither did Danny, when it all came down. It wasn’t that I tried to do the right thing in the end, it was that I fucked it all up from the beginning.”

Andrew drank some more, thinking. “Good for them.”

Nicholas’ head snapped to look at him and Andrew shrugged his hands up in the air.

“If you was mine I’d beat the crap out of you.”

Nicholas breathed heavily for a few moments, then collapsed. “I’d welcome it, at this point.”

Andrew snickered. “That can be arranged.”

Nicholas smiled. “I think we’d wake Andy.”

They sat on the couch, nodding at each other. Then Nicholas leaned in towards him. “You love him, but here I am. I don’t understand that, Andrew.”

“Love ‘im? No. I let him do what he wants.”

Nicholas’ eyebrows shot up. “Generous.”

“Oh fuck off, Nick. You know wot I mean. I don’t tell him to sleep on the floor.”

“I never told him to do that.”

“What the fuck ever. I mean, what makes him ‘appy, he gets. That’s all.” He tried a swagger as he leaned back against the arm rest and put his feet on the couch.

“Christ, Andrew, you’re the only thing that makes him happy. Call it what you want, it’s still love.” Nicholas leaned back and stretched out, looking straight ahead. “It probably kills him that you don’t do anything together when you two are alone.”

“We done enough.”

Nicholas glanced over at him. “What happened in the cellar?” He asked quietly.

Andrew did not tell him. He could not do it. He rubbed his temples. It was beyond a private moment, it was something horrible, terrible, and wrong, and so profoundly, powerfully magnificent that he did not want to ever admit that it happened, to anyone. Yet here he was, a changed man, unrecognizable to himself because of it.

“I saw the face of hell.”

Nicholas nodded, accepting the limitation, and Andrew breathed a sigh of relief. They sat in silence for a while.

“Andy lived, I guess that’s all that matters.” Andrew said, surprising himself by saying it.

“And you?”


“Did you live?”

Andrew snorted at the philosophical bullshit, but then thought maybe it was a good description.

“I swore I’d do anything to keep ‘im alive…and I did, I guess. No. I didn’ live through that…Safi killed one of us.” He leaned back and closed his eyes, his face taut, his jaw clinching painfully. He felt Nicholas move in closer, and wondered what the fuck the bender was going to do now, when he picked up the sensation of Nick’s warm hand rubbing the base of his head, at his neck, and it felt great.

“You makin’ a pass, Miss Angel?”

“No, I’m trying to be compassionate and supportive. Danny always tells me I am not affectionate enough with people.”

Andrew laughed until he could not breathe, and at some point he heard Nicholas laughing with him.

He woke up later in the night to find Nicholas sprawled against him, asleep, or just passed out. He knew they would both be hurting at work that day. He shoved Nicholas off and used the restroom and got one of the bottled waters that Andy starting putting in the fridge for Nicholas, hoping to beat off the immanent hangover. He returned to the couch to find Nicholas completely horizontal, snoring, taking up the whole damn thing. Andrew knew he should just go to his bed, but he had grown used to sleeping with someone lately. He considered crashing with Andy, who he knew would not actually throw him out. Given that Andy specifically said he wanted to be alone, Andrew could not bring himself to do it.

“Come on, Nick.” He pulled him off the couch.

“What? Where?” Nicholas blinked as he was walked down the hall. “Andrew, Andy said he wanted to be alone…”

“He will be. Here.” Andrew pushed open the door to his bedroom and spun Nicholas onto his bed. Nick bounced a bit and looked confused. There were no lights on in the room, but enough light came in from off the street that it was easy to see.

“I…I was fine on the couch.”

“Well I wasn’t. Lay down, twat.”

“This is your room?” Nicholas asked, looking around.

“Fuckin’ great deduction, Inspector. Lay down.”

“Is that an order, Sergeant?”

“Yes, Inspector, it is.” Andrew shoved him back. He sat down to take off his socks as Nick scooted backwards and laid down.

Nicholas gave him a childish, goofy grin. “Are you making a pass at me, Miss Wainwright?”

Andrew laid down next to him and slapped him on the cheek. “You’d know if I was, dear. Go to sleep.”

Andrew woke up in the morning with Nicholas wrapped around him. It was alright, no different than how Andy slept next to him. Until he felt Nicholas’ hot hands on his face and his body move up over him and they were lost in a long, deep kiss.


The difference here was that Nicholas did not feel the need to be in charge, or to lead, to be responsible for anyone. He had to be careful with Andy, and be the adult with Danny, and be the boyfriend with Liz, and be the boss at work; but here, with Andrew, a man he considered nearly his equal in many ways, Nicholas could simply relax. When he woke up in Andrew’s arms, he knew what he wanted, and it was not a blow job. He wanted to wrestle and sweat and just be with someone he could rely on to take care of himself without needing Nicholas to do it for him. Maybe even someone who could take care of him for a change, in some small way, without being instructed to do so first.

He lay awake thinking that, and wondering what he was going to do, but when he felt Andrew stir in slow wakefulness next to him, he stopped thinking. He reached out and took Andrew’s face in his hands and rolled on top of him and stopped only briefly to register Andrew’s surprise before kissing him. He was waiting to be pushed off, and he would accept that if it was how Andrew wanted things.

Andrew wrapped his arms around him.

Nicholas let Andrew lead, and it was a new experience for him but entirely welcome. Hands never dropped below chest or abdomen level; clothes did not come off, although Nicholas did snake underneath Andrew’s tee shirt at some point; there was very little grinding and no heated passion and certainly no consummation.

Nevertheless, both men were late to work that morning.


Nicholas stayed away for a whole week. Andrew did not understand what was going on, or how it happened, but one night while they were alone that week, in the middle of their usual routine before bed, he pinned Andy to the wall. They ground on each other, grasping at each other’s bodies and sucking on skin until Andrew came in a blinding fury, Andy trapped in his arms.

Current Mood: contemplativecontemplative